


Absolute Power

by 1000Needles



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-21 07:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16572020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1000Needles/pseuds/1000Needles
Summary: This story is shameless kink with absolutely no redeeming value. The prince of Lucis abuses his power over his two loyal retainers in an entirely inexcusable fashion. They may have safewords, but who knows? And what value do safewords really have when you're sworn to serve your prince in any manner he desires? Leashes, collars, clamps, belts, spanking and crying: it's just another night at the Citadel.





	Absolute Power

**Part One: Before Dinner**

Prince Noctis's Shield is standing very straight behind his liege's empty chair, hands clasped loosely behind his back in a military stance, when the prince’s Royal Advisor calls from the kitchen, "Come here and help me with this, would you?"

"Yeah?" Gladiolus says warily. As soon as he's at the door of the pantry, a hand shoots out and grabs his collar. "Iggy, no!" he hisses as he's dragged inside. "You're going to get in trouble."

"I need your help getting that bottle of fish sauce off the top shelf," Ignis says, pushing Gladio back against a sack of rice. He stumbles and sits down on it heavily. Ignis straddles his legs and runs his hands through Gladio's hair, sending his head back against the stone wall. "Fucking kiss me," he growls, and sticks his tongue in Gladio's mouth. Despite his half-hearted protest, Gladio doesn't have to be asked twice. He kisses back hungrily. Ignis kisses like he's _starving._ It makes Gladio lightheaded, dizzy. He realizes he's thrusting his hips and tries to get control of himself.

"We only have a few minutes."

"I don't care."

Ignis shoves his hands down the back of Gladio's pants and pulls him even closer, so they're grinding against each other, both red-faced and panting and knowing they're skirting danger but unable to stop. Gladio gives into it completely, not caring either. He's grabbing big handfuls of Iggy's sweet ass, more friction, more pressure, and they're both almost there despite the small voice in Gladio's head saying _Not in your pants right before dinner, are you completely insane?_ when Noct says from the doorway, "What are you guys doing?"

They spring apart. Ignis stands very tall and fiddles with his glasses, which are slightly fogged up. Gladio says lamely, "I was helping with the fish sauce."

"Uh-huh." Noct's arms are crossed, his lip curled in amusement and disdain. "I'm sure that was his excuse. This was your idea, wasn't it, Iggy?"

"Your dinner is nearly ready, Highness." Ignis's voice is almost perfectly even. "If you return to your chair, I'll have it served in a moment."

"That's it? No apology? I was _waiting."_

"I'm sorry, Highness."

"I don't believe you." Noct pads forward in his socks, his eyes sleepy. "You don't look sorry." He eyes the obvious bulge in Ignis's pants and cups it in his palm. Ignis groans, and his hips go forward as if he can't help himself. "You don't _feel_ sorry, either. And you owe Gladio an apology, too, because now he's in just as much trouble as you are."

"It was my idea," Gladio volunteers. "It wasn't Iggy's fault."

"Seriously, Gladio? Do you think I'm stupid?" Noct presses harder with the heel of his hand. Ignis chokes back a moan, his fingers fluttering by his side as if he can't decide what to do with them. “I know whose idea it was. Iggy just can't control himself, can you, Iggy?”

“No, Highness,” Ignis says, his cheeks going even redder. “I can't.”

“Pull yourself together and get my dinner on the table,” Noct says, turning in dismissal. “And Gladio—you can be my footstool.”

 

**Part Two: After Dinner**

Ignis has a certain sense of innate dignity that's difficult to shake, pantry indiscretions notwithstanding. In the early days of his experimentations, Noctis tried giving him a collar of fine golden links and a matching chain. It didn't work. They looked as elegant on his naked body as jewelry and Ignis knelt as tall as ever, his spiky hair extending his height by a good few inches. Next he found a rough leather collar and a hound’s leash that should have been degrading, but instead Iggy just looked prettier, outshining the attempt to embarrass him: there was something in his bearing of quiet contempt for the worn gear. After much trial and error, though, Noct now has suitable accouterments for his serious advisor.

He buckles the collar around Ignis’s neck, attaches the slender lead, and steps back to admire his handiwork. Kneeling next to Iggy, Gladio feels his face heat, because even he has to admit it's perfect. Pristine white leather circles Ignis's neck. Across the front of the collar, gaudy pink gemstones spell out ROYAL SLUT. 

Ignis's face is as pink as the stones. He hates the collar, and he loves it. Forcing him to walk that line is something Noct finds endlessly entertaining.

“Now you,” Noct says, moving to stand in front of Gladio. “How can I embarrass someone who’s happiest half-naked?”

“You can't,” Gladio says.

“Yeah, but I don't want you to get bored.” Noct pushes the jacket off his shoulders. It catches on his hands, clasped behind his back, and exposes his bare chest. Gladio flinches: he knows what's coming. Noct traces one of his nipples.

“You've got really big nipples for a guy, Gladio. And they're so soft. Sensitive.” It's true. Even the feathery touch of Noct’s fingertip is enough to make him bite back a moan. He imagines Ignis licking it, and then he does moan, shamefully. He's just as bad as Iggy. But it's been so long since either of them was allowed to come. 

“See, I don't even have to do anything. You embarrass yourself.” Noct jingles the metal clips in his hand. “Take a deep breath, Gladio, and control yourself.” The first clamp makes his back arch and his cock jump. The second one makes his eyes water. He stares straight ahead, forcing his face still, and Noct gives a little tug to the chain connecting them. 

“Be good. Iggy and I are going to play now. Iggy, here.” He snaps his fingers and walks back to the long bench, something between a couch and a bed, that takes up an entire wall of the chamber. It's long and wide enough to hold a dozen men his size, about waist-high from the thickly carpeted floor, with a padded step leading up to the mounds of cushions and pillows. Sitting with his bare feet on the step, Noctis looks not at all like a Lucian prince and more like a weird, elfin Astral.

Ignis crawls forward, the lead trailing between his legs. When he gets to the step, Noct reaches down and grasps the narrow length of white leather, wrapping it around his hand to pull Ignis closer. The leash draws Ignis up until he's kneeling on the step, head tipped up in obedience to the firm pressure on his collar.

“You're supposed to pay attention to _me.”_ Noct gives the leash a little shake. “And instead you're distracting my Shield. Get your ass up here.” Ignis scrambles awkwardly onto Noct’s lap, face down across his thighs. Noct takes off his glasses and sets them to one side.

“It was my fault,” Gladio says loudly. “Punish me.”

“Oh, I will.” Noct strokes Iggy's upturned ass. “I don't feel like counting, so I'm just going to spank you until I get bored, okay?” 

“Yes, High—” Ignis's whisper ends in a groan as Noct brings the palm of his hand down. Gladio winces. Noct isn't particularly strong, but hitting anyone enough times has a cumulative effect. The smacks echo in the room. Iggy's gasps are perversely arousing. Gladio's nipples are burning. He shifts uncomfortably on the padded carpet as the gasps get heavier, wet, desperate.

“Ow,” Noctis complains. “My hand hurts.” He maneuvers Ignis around so he can use his other hand. Iggy's squirming now, uselessly trying to avoid each slap, with a frantic edge of delight in his voice as he begs, “Please, Highness, please, Highness, please—” between ragged sobs.

“Now _both_ my hands hurt. Gladio, you wanna get up here and help?”

“No.”

“You're such a pain in the ass.” He smacks Ignis one more time and giggles. “Get it, Iggy? A pain in the ass? Okay, I guess that's enough. You're hot enough to fry an egg.” Poor Iggy's asscheeks are scarlet. He's crying steadily. Gladio's traitorous cock is rock hard. “C’mere.” Ignis throws his arms around Noct’s neck and buries his face in his shoulder. Noctis strokes his back, murmuring soothingly. He uncaps a bottle by his side and pours a silky liquid into his palms, rubbing it into Iggy's flaming skin. It's not an analgesic, but it's cool and calming, as Gladio knows from long experience. Ignis's sobs turn into hiccups. Noct runs a finger down the cleft of his ass, and the hiccups become soft moans. He thrusts his hips back.

“Did Gladio help you prepare for your audience with the prince?”

“Yes,” Ignis says breathlessly, rocking onto Noctis’s fingers. Noct shoots a smug glance over Ignis's shoulder.

“How did that make you feel, Gladio?”

“I serve my Highness,” he says evenly, staring down at the carpet. In his peripheral vision, he can see Iggy fucking himself on Noctis’s hand. Noct isn't even doing any work. 

“You want to get fucked, don't you, Iggy?”

Ignis bucks on Noct’s fingers. His face is still pressed in his shoulder, but “Please— please—” is easy enough to understand.

“You’d like to have Gladio's cock up there right now, wouldn't you?”

“Yes!”

“Too bad. You're being punished.” Noctis waves his armiger into existence. A fat plug falls into his hand. Gladio wonders what the ancient kings of Lucis would think. “But this is better than nothing, isn't it?” Ignis takes the plug with a muffled grunt of pleasure and Noct shoves him off the bed. “Back in position, Iggy, and no more crying, I expect better of you.”

“Yes, Highness.” Ignis struggles to his knees, taking quick gulps of air. His tear-stained face is quickly composed. Noct thumbs the remote and Iggy's hips jerk.

“Just a little something to keep you occupied. Now, Gladio. You’re supposed to be a good influence on my advisor.”

“You're supposed to be taking his advice.”

Noctis snickers. “If I did that he'd be advising me to let you fuck his ass before every meal. Don't get high and mighty with me, Shield. You're in just as much trouble as he is.”

Gladio drops his gaze. From the corner of his eye, he can see Ignis biting his bottom lip, moving minutely to the rhythm of the plug in his ass. _I want you,_ Iggy mouths silently. Gladio closes his eyes before he can say something stupid.

He opens them when Noct hooks a finger in the chain that stretches across his chest. He stumbles forward, awkwardly; Noct is half his height. Then he's shoved down against the bedding, his face pressed into the blankets, his feet braced on the floor, hands still behind his back, tangled in the jacket. 

The clamps have stopped hurting by now, just a dull ache at twin points. Noct reaches under his chest and unclips one, then the other, in rapid succession. The pain comes rushing back. “Fuck,” Gladio groans, before he can stop himself, and hisses through his teeth. 

“I should get them pierced,” Noct says, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The light pressure is deliciously soothing on his sore flesh. Gladio bites into the fabric against his mouth, ordering himself not to make a sound. “That would be cute. Yeah, Iggy? Maybe pink gems to match the ones on your collar? On a little chain, so they'd bounce against his chest when he walks. It’d be hot. You would _always_ be thinking about your tits, Gladio.”

“So sensitive,” Ignis says dreamily. The muffled buzz of the vibrator is loud in the pause after he speaks.

“Right, exactly.” Noct reaches under Gladio's waist and unbuckles his belt. But he doesn't go for the buttons next. Instead he draws the belt out through the pant loops. There's a long moment when Gladio tries not to imagine the look on his face.

“You threatened me with this once.”

“You were being an insufferable brat.”

“I get to do that. You don't. Take your pants off, Shield.” When Gladio starts to stand up, Noct presses him down, a hand in the small of his back. “From where you are. _Posture,_ Gladio. Keep that back straight.”

It's a sing-song mimicry of the words Gladio has used so often in their lessons. He grits his teeth and unfastens the buttons, pushes the pants down and kicks them off. Noct pats him on the ass and Gladio can just see the glee on his face: both his toys, naked and waiting to be played with.

“Think about this next time Iggy pulls you into the pantry.” It's a pathetic strike. The folded belt barely glances off Gladio’s ass. He snorts in disgust and shifts restlessly on the blankets.

“What’re you doing? You don't even know how to use the damned thing.”

“Don't you always tell me to practice until I get it right?” The next blow lands clean. _Oh, fuck._ The heat spreads up through his ass and he knows he's done for. Another one, right in the crease between his cheeks and thighs: it feels so fucking good.

“You're doing well, Noct,” Ignis says. “He likes that. See how he's relaxed?”

Noct smacks him again. This time he hears himself, and he knows it's too late. _Fuck, fuck._ What has Iggy been teaching him?

“It's not a very good punishment if he likes it this much,” Noct says, laying on another blow.

“You're wrong there, Noct. Can you imagine how embarrassing this is for him? You're making him enjoy his own punishment.”

“That's kinda fucked up, Iggy.” Gladio has a vague sense in the back of his head that he ought to be participating in this conversation, but the waves of sensation washing through his body are too encompassing. He grips his hands tight behind his back and chews on the blanket. Oh fuck, it hurts and it feels so good. Far away, Iggy and Noct are still talking.

“—and he’ll either cry or come.”

“Or both.” Noctis is laughing. The blows are covering well-worn territory now, hitting spots already sore and burning. His whole body feels like it's on the verge of combusting. The blankets are wet under his face. A shudder rises in him, not centered on his cock but throughout his muscles, like a deep massage. 

“Now,” Ignis says. And one more slap of leather on his ass pushes him over the edge.

His knees buckle. Noct is petting his head. He's wet everywhere, his face, his stomach, and the only thing he can hear is the buzz in his head—no, that's the vibrator. Noct reaches for the remote and turns it off. Ignis makes a sound of protest, and Noct shushes him.

“I told you, you're being punished. You’ll just have to wait and see if Gladio forgives you. Only Gladio gets to come tonight. My loyal Shield.” 

Gladio leans into Noct’s hand and lets himself be soothed to sleep on the floor. The last thing he feels is Ignis's fingers twining in his, and warm breath against his ear as Iggy whispers, “You owe me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow me at moon-festival.com.


End file.
